


jar

by hiiraeth



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Domesticity, F/M, Fluff and Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Minor Hawknath, This is pure crack tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27243448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiiraeth/pseuds/hiiraeth
Summary: "Sir?""Hm?"She walked up to him and held out the jar. "Can you open this?"
Relationships: Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 12
Kudos: 77





	jar

Nathalie twisted the lid on the pickle jar with as much force as she could muster but the lid wouldn't budge.

She banged it on the side of the counter, tried using extra friction by turning it with her shirt, and, as a last resort, attempted to pry the cursed thing open with a butter knife.

All methods were ineffective.

She stopped and stared at the jar, breathing a little harder than normal. She convinced herself it was simply one of the symptoms of using a damaged miraculous rearing it's ugly head again, and definitely _not_ because her blood pressure was rising at an extremely alarming rate.

She took a deep breath.

Nathalie Sancoeur did not break under stress. It was one of the reasons she had become such a valuable asset to the Gabriel brand. It was her job to handle problems as efficiently and as quickly as possible before the problems even became problems. She'd been through more difficult and emotionally taxing situations than this.

And yet.

Nathalie couldn't help but think of the old idiom 'the straw that broke the camel's back' as she continued to stare at the offending pickle jar. Was this really worth having a break down over? Did she really need the pickles? No, of course she didn't need them. But she _wanted_ them, dammit. And it was the only thing she really wanted that she could actually have, so she was going to have it, come hell or high water.

An image of a hammer popped into her mind but she quickly dismissed that idea. She wasn't too fond of the thought of spending the rest of her lunch break picking tiny shards of glass out of her pickles, although she was sure Gabriel wouldn't mind giving her an extra thirty minutes if she asked.

Speaking of the Devil.

The door to the kitchen opened behind her and Gabriel strolled in, heading straight for the coffee maker.

She was, blissfully, momentarily distracted from her pickle problem as she watched the love of her life (sadly one-sided) walk by. His presence was enough to bring her blood pressure back down to safe levels, even as his aura exuded irritation over a battle an akuma of his had lost at the record speed of only fifty-two seconds just a few hours prior.

Just then, she had a light bulb moment. Men were supposed to be good at opening jars, weren't they? Her female pride protested weakly against the thought of getting a man to do such a simple task for her but it was easily squished. Her craving for the pickles was too strong for her to really care about sexism for the moment and _besides_ — Gabriel wasn't just a man. He was _Gabriel_.

"Sir?"

"Hm?"

She walked up to him and held out the jar. "Can you open this?"

He set down the coffee pot and turned to face her, taking the jar from her hands. "Of course," He said, his tone kind despite his obviously shitty mood.

She smiled at him.

Gabriel twisted the lid. Frowned. Twisted harder. His eye twitched. He turned and set the jar on the counter where Nathalie could tell he was putting all his strength into getting the lid off. But to no avail.

Nathalie was quite suprised. She knew from experience that Gabriel was not a weak man. After all, whenever she'd use the miraculous in the past he had often needed to carry her out of the lair—sometimes to the dining area where she simply needed to rest for a few minutes, sometimes all the way upstairs to her room when it was obvious she would be out of commission for the rest of the day. And not once during any of those times had she ever felt like he would drop her or couldn't handle her weight.

Perhaps the jar just simply wasn't meant to be opened.

Nathalie sighed. There was one more person who mignt be able to get it open.

"Is Simon still here?" She asked. "Maybe he can—"

"No!" He shouted, and Nathalie jumped, suprised at his sudden outburst. " _I'm_ going to open it," He said through gritted teeth. He stopped twisting and yanked out a drawer, pulling out a butter knife.

"Um, sir," She said, as he started jamming the knife under the lid in an attempt to pry it open. "I already tried that."

But he wasn't listening. It was personal for him now. Nathalie watched him try to get the jar open for the next several minutes, her lips pursed. As much as she had wanted the pickles....now that Gabriel was getting upset over it too, she wanted the problem to go away. Her role was to minimize his issues, not add to them. Also, she just hated seeing him struggle.

Gabriel let out some colorful curses under his breath as he stared at the jar, planning his next move if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.

Before he could do anything else, though, Nathalie laid her hand gently on his arm. _That_ got his attention. He looked at her and, once again, she gave him a smile. "It's alright, Gabriel. I don't really need the pickles. I'm sure I can find something else to snack on for now..." She looked away and then looked back at him shyly. "But thank you for trying."

Their eyes remained locked. As Gabriel stared at her, he began to soften, the tension leaving his shoulders. He returned her smile, although it was less noticeable than hers—a small upwards turn of the mouth. He closed his eyes and sighed, taking a step away from her. And then—

"Nooroo," He said.

Nathalie's eyes widened. Surely he wasn't going to—

"Dark wings rise!"

He was.

There was a blinding flash of purple light and suddenly Hawkmoth was standing in Gabriel's place.

He picked up the jar of pickles and with an unbelievable ease, twisted the top off.

He smacked it down triumphantly on the counter. "There!" He said. "It's open. I win!"

Nathalie, after getting over the momentary shock of seeing Gabriel transform in the middle of the kitchen, beamed at Hawkmoth, delighted that she was getting her pickles after all.

**Author's Note:**

> gabriel said my wife wants pickles well shes getting her pickles.
> 
> honestly idek what this is. i just needed a break from the angst. thanks for reading <3


End file.
